


Fate (Plays Us All Out)

by itstoobloodyhot



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe - Criminals, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2019-01-31 21:04:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12690216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itstoobloodyhot/pseuds/itstoobloodyhot
Summary: Ryan leads the typical, average guy life: a shitty job, a shittier boss, and a wish to be someone else.That's when a criminal gang jumps into his life and takes him as one of their own. Murders, robberies, the whole set.And somehow, in the midst of all this, he manages to fall desperately in love.





	1. Chapter 1

Ryan had never been one for a particularly exciting lifestyle. He wanted peace most of all and was well on the road to getting it. He was, in short, an adult.

 

With a boring, unsatisfactory 9 to 5 job, a boss that hated his guts for whatever reason, a series of failed relationships, and whatever number of family issues, he had thought that it would just be a steady stream from now, to finding a girl that would put up with his bullshit, marriage and kids, to dying alone.

 

Life, planned out in a few sentences. Just sprinkle in regret for not pursuing a career in something he was passionate about, and it was all finished. Done.

 

He thought about that on the bus ride back to his shitty apartment, and shuffled off the bus and into his place, loosening his tie and unbuttoning his top button, dropping his satchel on the floor somewhere, and heading to his bed, falling face first onto it.

 

And there he would’ve stayed until he got hungry, however, it appeared his phone had other plans. 

 

It vibrated out of his trouser pocket and onto the bed, where it made a great deal of the bed start to vibrate beneath him, meaning that he had no choice but to answer it.

 

“Hello, this is Ry-”

 

“Hello, Georgie?”

 

Of all the people it could’ve been.

 

“Hi, Grandma.”

 

“Georgie, I need you to come and pick me up from the bank. Your grandfather has forgotten that he needed to.”

 

Ryan tried to keep the annoyance out of his tone.

 

“Uh, sure. Just give me a couple minutes.”

 

“Of course, dearie. I’m not quite finished here, I’m just having a chat with a lovely young man-“

 

“Sounds great, Grandma.”

 

Well, there went his evening plans.

 

***

 

Ryan parked, pressing a button to keep the car engine on and the radio playing. Not that he needed it. All that it was was shitty top 40 songs. He didn’t bother locking the doors.

 

An alarm started blaring somewhere, and Ryan barely registered it. It was only when three suited and masked people climbed hurriedly into his car that he realised it was coming from the bank.

 

A collection of muffled words from the three of them started to put together a bit of a picture of the situation.

 

“What are you-”

“Jon, for fuck’s-”

“Fucking drive!”

 

The one sitting in the passenger seat, with a glittery golden half mask, turned his head, getting the first good look at Ryan that he had done in the thirty seconds he’d been in the car.

 

“You’re not our driver.”

 

Ryan swallowed.

 

“You’re not my grandmother.”

 

The guy smirked, flicking his eyes down. Ryan couldn’t help but feel awfully exposed.

 

The police sirens started to build up in the background, and the guy started panicking again.

 

“Fucking go!” He yelled, grabbing on tightly to the seat.

 

Ryan did as he said, driving carefully. He’d worked a long time to get this car, and he didn’t really want it damaged. Brendon shot him an incredulous look.

 

“Dude, does this car go any faster than 40 fucking miles per hour?” He snapped, hair starting to fall in front of his face. Not that Ryan noticed. No, he kept his eyes on the road and his hands at 9 and 3.

 

“I’m obeying the law, _dude._ ” He pushed through his gritted teeth, desperately not trying to think about the police sirens and flashing lights that were behind them.

 

The guy pulled out a handgun. “We just robbed a bank. Does it look like the law fucking matters to us?”

 

Ryan, out of sheer panic, felt his hands lift slowly off the wheel. 

 

An angelic pair of unusually long arms reached from the chair behind him, and he felt a head appear on his right shoulder. Ryan turned, then jumped at seeing a weird goat mask that looked like something out a cult.

 

“Hey, I’mWarrior. What’s your name?”

 

“I’m Ryan.” Ryan blinked, stuttering out.

 

“Nice to meet you, Ryan.”

 

The guy in the passenger seat relaxed, putting the gun back away wherever it had been. Ryan, without the stress of driving, took the time to glance over at him and get a proper look. So, uh, he could tell the police later, of course.

He had dark brown hair, a black suit with the top button undone, and a smirk that reached to his eyes, that he was keeping firmly on Ryan, sizing him up. He was, at least, Ryan assumed he was under his mask, a very objectively attractive person.

 

“They’re following us.” The guy in the very back piped up.

 

The guy in the passenger seat – He still hadn’t mentioned his name – turned, shooting him with a look. 

 

The guy in the back didn’t seem to notice. “They’re still following us.”

 

The guy that was driving sighed, probably rolling his eyes behind his mask.

 

“They’re still follow- Oh, they’re getting closer. Closer…”

 

“Shut the fuck up!” Ryan slammed his foot on the gas pedal, making the four of them zoom forward.

 

“There we go.”

 

Ryan leaned forward, pushing his fingers through his hair. “I’m a good citizen why do you do this to me whathaveIdonewrong-” A hand on his back stopped his rambling, and he flinched, looking up to see both of Warrior’s (Ryan doubted that was his actual name) hands were still on the wheel, and then glancing to the side, and seeing that the hand belonged to the guy in the passenger seat.

 

“Hey, Ryan. You okay?” There was genuine concern in his voice. At least, Ryan hoped it was genuine.

 

“Maybe you should tell me who the fuck you people are.” He couldn’t help it. The words slipped out of his brain before he could stop them, like stamping on a bottle of toothpaste.

 

The guy didn’t seem to acknowledge the sharpness in his tone. “Alright, well, you’ve already met Warrior, and the annoying one in the back is Penny. And I’m Sentimental Boy.”

 

“What are you, some kind of superhero?”

 

‘Sentimental Boy’ smirked beneath his mask.

 

“I guess you could say that.”

 

***

 

Meanwhile, Jon had been waiting at that bank.

 

“Where the fuck are they? You know what, fuck their stupid bank robbing idea. I’m going home.”

 

An old lady approached his car, knocking on the window.

 

“Hello, Georgie, the most awful thing happened- My, you’ve changed so much since I last saw you! But you really should get a haircut.”

 

Well, he didn’t have anything else to do.


	2. Chapter 2

Ryan had expected Sentimental Boy, Warrior, and Penny’s base of sorts to be some sort of a dingy, dark, creepy storage room, all bare cement and exposed wires. 

 

Ryan frowned and looked around. 

 

"This is your... base?" It looked more like a hospital waiting room. There was no dust anywhere, just a steel table that held more cash than Ryan had ever seen in his life. That and a couple of chairs, a lamp. All that was a missing were stupid gossip magazines. Ryan almost chuckled at the thought of Warrior reading one of those, but stopped himself at the last second, turning it into a cough.

 

"Yeah," Warrior said, and Ryan detected something like pride in his tone. "It's nice, right?"

 

"That's... one way to put it.” He put his hands in his hoodie pockets, looking around.

 

Why was he still there? He should leave. He should call-

 

“I’m calling the police.”

 

Warrior, Sentimental Boy, and Penny froze, exchanging glances and then looking over at him. 

 

Sentimental Boy slowly pulled out his handgun again and walked forward so it was pressed against Ryan’s head. Penny sighed, pulling off his werewolf mask, and Warrior did the same, and they walked over to turn on a large old fashioned radio and to count the money they’d just stolen.

 

“I don’t think that would be such a great idea, Ryan.” Sentimental Boy gritted his teeth, any warmth that had been in his eyes in the car instantly gone.

 

Ryan swallowed hard, the unfamiliar sensation of the cold metal against his forehead absolutely terrifying him. He didn’t, couldn’t take his eyes off the person holding it.

 

Sentimental Boy tilted his head towards a door, and Ryan, not wanting to be killed, went through, trying not to breathe too loud in case that set him off. A chill ran straight down his spine. From the back of his mind, a thought popped up: _This ‘Sentimental Boy’ isn’t really so sentimental, is he?_

 

The room only had two chairs in it, and a single lightbulb that dangled from the ceiling. It was clear that this was a room that Warrior hadn’t bothered to clean. 

 

“Why don’t you sit down, Ryan?” Sentimental Boy didn’t lower the gun, but sat down in one of the chairs. 

 

Well, Ryan had had a nice life. And he didn’t have anyone that would particularly care if he died, or any pets or children that were dependent on him to keep living. So, he sat, finding himself almost an at an uncomfortable proximity to Sentimental Boy.

 

The door closed behind them, and Ryan, despite every urge in his body to run for it, continued sitting.

“Ryan, we really can’t having you call the police on us.” Sentimental Boy slowly, slowly lowered the gun, leaning forward slightly and creating even less distance between the two.

 

“B-But you’re criminals,” Ryan swallowed, too scared to move. “Calling the police is the right thing to do.”

 

Sentimental Boy rolled his eyes, pushing a hand through his hair. “Who cares what’s right and wrong? Everyone’s done fucked up shit. Even you, Mr Good Citizen.”

 

He’s objectively attractive, Ryan noted. Or at least, he would be, if Ryan were even remotely attracted to men in any way.

 

And then he felt a pair of lips on his, and a hand in his hair. 

 

And then, for reasons that even he couldn’t explain, Ryan kissed him back. He didn’t know where to put his hands, but Sentimental Boy did the work for him, using his spare hand to move them to the back of his neck, and uses the hand tangled in Ryan’s hair to pull gently, forcing a groan out of him. Vaguely, Ryan felt a hand on his ass.

 

And then it all stopped. Sentimental Boy stood, holding Ryan’s phone just out of his reach between his thumb and forefinger.

 

“No calling the cops anymore, pretty boy.” Sentimental Boy looked smug despite his hair being completely messed up and a blush riddling his cheeks. 

 

Ryan frowned, mouth hanging open. All that had been for the purpose of stealing his phone? There had to be something he could say to-

 

“… You think I’m pretty?”

 

Sentimental Boy clearly hadn’t been expecting that.

 

“I mean, uh… Look, that wasn’t my point! You can’t call the cops, Ryan.”

 

Ryan stood. Well, there wasn’t anything keeping him there. 

 

“I could just go and tell them though. And my phone was due for an upgrade anyway.” He lied, heading towards the door.

 

Sentimental Boy dropped the phone and was next to him in a matter of moments, arm pressing into his throat and pushing him into the door. Ryan’s hands went straight to the arm, feeling the air become scarce.

 

And then Sentimental Boy was kissing him again. Well, Ryan couldn’t say that his methods were very varied, but again, he found himself returning the gesture. The arm moved, and Sentimental Boy lead him back to the chair, breaking away to make him sit, and then moving to sit in his lap.

 

Ryan’s hands wrapped around Sentimental Boy’s waist, underneath the jacket, pulling him as close as he possibly could. 

 

Sentimental Boy reached down behind him, bringing up his gun, and hitting Ryan with the end of it, knocking him out cold. He stood, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and slipped his gun back into his pocket.

 

“Spencer? I’m gonna need you to find this guy’s address.”


	3. Chapter 3

Ryan woke with a pounding headache that was reminiscent of a hangover and left him with a wondering of where he was last night. 

 

And then it hit him.

 

He’d spent yesterday making out with a bank robber.

 

Fuck.

 

A doorbell knocked him out of his stupor, and he stumbled off his mattress to answer it. 

 

“Hey, Ry- Whoa, what happened to you?” William frowned, stopping his leaning in the doorway in an effort to look cool to go for genuinely concerned instead. 

 

Ryan blinked. “What do you mean?” He let Will in, trying to ignore the pain in his head.

 

“You’ve got a massive bruise, man.” 

 

Ryan reached a hand up to touch his face, flinching at the contact. “Fuck.”

 

“What did you do? Get into a fight or something?” Will had headed straight to the kitchen, to the coffee maker. 

 

“What are you even doing here?” Ryan tried not to sound too crabby, but it was slightly difficult with the newly-discovered bruise.

 

Will stuck his head out the kitchen door. “I didn’t realise it was a crime to want to hang out with one of my friends.” The rest of his body decided to join his head. “Coffee?”

 

A crooked smile spread over Ryan’s features. “You know me too well.”

 

“Yeah, yeah.” Will had brought out two mugs, which he set on a counter. “So what actually happened to you?”

 

“Is that all you’re interested in?” Ryan rolled his eyes, taking his mug and savouring the warmth that spread through it.

 

“Well, I get more interested the more you keep brushing it off.” Will combed his hair back with his fingers, taking a sip of his coffee. “You look like shit, man. Seriously.”

 

“Thanks.” Ryan raised an eyebrow. “It’s not a big deal.”

 

“If it’s not a big deal, then why can’t you just tell me?” Will took another sip and made a face. “Damn, what coffee do you buy? It’s really different to what I have.”

 

Ryan squinted. “Didn’t you check the bag?”

 

Will squinted back. “It’s in a tin labelled ‘Coffee’.”

 

That bastard. He’d used the coffee tin.

“Right. It’s just cheap shit. Instant.” Ryan blew on the coffee to cool it. “We can’t all afford organic fair-trade hand-ground coffee.”

 

Will’s mouth fell open and he pointed, prodding Ryan. “You dodged the question again!”

 

“No, you started talking about coffee.” Ryan couldn’t help but grin.

 

“Oh, come on, Ryan. Just tell me.” And then, he did the puppy eyes. Ryan had always been weak to the puppy eyes.

 

“You’re gonna laugh.” Ryan put the coffee down, folding his arms. “The story of how I got this bruise, is…” He swallowed, preparing himself to tell the full story. “I was kind of… y’know… making out… with a guy.”

 

Will blinked, paused, and then burst out laughing. “You scored with a badass!”

 

Ryan grimaced. “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

 

“You, Mr Not-Attracted-To-Dudes-Ever, made out with a badass dude! That’s the best news I’ve heard all week.” Will clapped him on the shoulder. “So, what was his name?”

 

God, was this fulfilling some sort of stereotype? “He said his name was Sentimental Boy.” Ryan closed his eyes, regret seeping into his brain. William gasped with fake surprise.

 

“He didn’t even give you a real name. Oh my god, Ryan. You’re turning into a gay stereotype.” Will grinned, coffee forgotten and arms folded.

 

“Sure.” Ryan rolled his eyes. Could he really be called a gay stereotype if he was effectively kidnapped and then … distracted and knocked out by a bank robber?

 

A beeping from his phone prompted Will to drink the rest of his coffee in a huge gulp and pat Ryan on the shoulder again. “Man, I gotta go. A meeting sorta thing. Enjoy your coffee.”

 

“Will, it’s my fucking coffee.”

 

“Yeah, well, try and enjoy it anyway.”

 

Ryan took another sip of the coffee. It was godawful, but it was all he had. He heard the front door shut with a click, then walked to the kitchen, getting some milk and pouring it in. Bitter shit.

 

The doorbell chimed again, and Ryan rolled his eyes. “Did you forget something, Will? A goodbye, for example?”

 

To the lack of response, Ryan walked to the door, opening it. “Will, what on-”

 

“Surprise, Ryan.” Fucking Sentimental Boy stood in his doorway, smirk bright on his face, and no mask.

 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Ryan hissed, shooting a glance at the other apartments in his block, lest someone realise that the bank robber from yesterday was apparently making courtesy calls.

 

“We need a getaway driver, and Mary Jane, unfortunately, couldn’t make it.” Sentimental Boy couldn’t keep the annoyance out of his voice at the second statement.

 

“I assume that’s the ‘Jon’ that was meant to be driving you yesterday.” Ryan drank his coffee slowly, making no move to allow him in. “There’s no way in hell that you’re involving me in another one of your stupid bank robberies.”

 

“It’s not a bank robbery, problem solved.” Sentimental Boy took the coffee out of his hands, finishing off the last of it and grimacing. “That’s fucking awful. I swear, when we’re done with this one, I’m taking you out to get some good coffee. Now,” He pushed past, heading to Ryan’s bedroom. “You’ve gotta get dressed.”

 

Ergo, Ryan found himself behind the wheel again, resisting every urge to drive the car into a tree, killing them both and probably saving humanity just a little.Dressed in a suit. Sentimental Boy sat on the passenger side again, lounging, and pondering all sorts of things.

 

“Well, since Mary’s gone missing, you’re our main man. You can wear these for the minute since you don’t have a mask yet,” He pushed a pair of big sunglasses into Ryan’s hand, then leant back again, “And we should come up with your new name. What’s something that people wouldn’t associate you with, though?”

 

“The fucking sun, maybe,” Ryan grumbled, putting the sunglasses on regardless. 

 

Sentimental Boy sat up. “Oh, I like that. The Sun. Very poetic. Oh no, you’re Sunshine! That suits you more. Make a left here.”

 

They arrived at a house. A completely fucking ordinary house.

 

“Hey, Sentimental Boy, where the fuck are we?” Ryan scowled, not wanting to get out of the car in case it was a trap.

 

“We’re just picking up Warrior, don’t worry. Come on.” He got out of the car, walking straight up to the front door. Ryan followed, like some dog. Ugh, he gets kissed by a guy once and is immediately at- No, the guy had a gun. That was why he was even doing this.

 

Sentimental Boy knocked and was met by a small girl. “Hello, Amelie! Can you get your daddy for us? Thank you.” It was like he was a completely different person, which shocked Ryan to his core.

 

The little girl nodded and ran off. “Mommy! Daddy’s friends are here!”

 

Sentimental Boy shot a glance at Ryan, noticing his discomfort. “Come on, Sunshine, perk up.” He stretched out a hand to hold Ryan’s and Ryan noticed that it was surprisingly warm. 

 

From somewhere within the house, a woman’s voice called. “Dallon, your friends are here!”

 

Ryan frowned, looking up at Warrior, or rather, Dallon kissed his wife, then walked down the hallway towards them. Sentimental Boy let go of his hand, clasping them behind his back instead.

 

“Morning.” Warrior nodded toward Ryan. “What’s he doing here?”

 

“Mary Jane has gone missing. Come on, we’re meeting Penny at the studio.” Sentimental Boy turned, walking back to the car without inviting any further conversation.

 

Ryan got into the driver’s seat wordlessly. Warrior sat behind him, and Sentimental Boy on his right, as it had been yesterday.

 

“So, since Jon’s fucked off to who know’s where we need to get a new driver. Which is where Sunshine here,” Sentimental Boy gestured at Ryan for no one in particular to see - “comes in.”

 

“Right. Because he’s pretty and already knows about us.” Warrior raised an eyebrow, unsurprised at Sentimental Boy’s actions.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so you might be able to tell that this scene was heavily based on baby driver
> 
> yep

They found Penny drawing up plans on a whiteboard that appeared to be shoplifted from a stationery store. He kept glancing at a tragically old phone screen, clearly referring to something or another.

“Penny, wipe Mary Jane off the board, he’s fucked off.” Sentimental Boy kept a hand on Ryan, as Warrior went to get a box of some description down.

Penny let out a low whistle, wiping the name off with the heel of his hand. “Pew isn’t gonna like that.” He looked up, noticing Ryan was there again but seemed unsurprised. “And he’s our new driver?”

Sentimental Boy nodded.

That left three names on the board. SB, which Ryan presumed stood for Sentimental Boy, PENNY, and WORRIER.

“Wait, you’re called ‘Worrier’? But you’re the least worrying guy I’ve ever met.” Ryan began to protest, folding his arms but making no attempt to leave.

“Yep. It’s an inside joke.” Worrier dropped the mask box down at Ryan’s feet. “There. Choose whatever one calls to you.”

Ryan bent over them, then straightened up, folding his arms. “I said I wasn’t going to take any part in this, and I won’t.”

Penny shrugged, turning back to the board.

Sentimental Boy wrapped his arm around Ryan’s waist. “Sunshine, just listen. Your apartment sucks, your coffee is fucking awful, and you’re pretty much sleeping on a bare mattress.” He rested his head on Ryan’s shoulder. “Work with us, just until we get someone willing to do this, and we’ll never talk to you about this again. Assuming you don’t tell the police or anyone else about this because then there would be…” Sentimental Boy’s eyes flicked up to meet Ryan’s, his lower lip caught between his teeth. “Consequences.”

A shudder ran through Ryan’s body. Had he just been threatened with death? It really didn’t feel like it. He swallowed, folding his arms and making no move to push Sentimental Boy off of him.

Penny folded his arms, plans clearly finished and SUNSHINE written in the place of MARY JANE. “Come on, Sentimental Boy. If he’s driving he can just wear sunglasses and pick later, can’t he? Jon never wore a mask or anything.”

Sentimental Boy rolled his eyes before peeling himself off of Ryan and taking a seat at the table, where he was joined by Worrier. Ryan hesitated but sat down. There was no way of backing out of this now, and besides that, there was a small part of him that disobediently wanted to know more about Sentimental Boy. And, uh, all of this crime thing. Of course.

“Right, so Pew sent in some new plans, and there’s this rich guy, Patrick, that lives in Summerlin North. Sentimental Boy, if you do your Mormon act, Worrier and I can sneak in around the back. Pew scouted out quite the impressive garden, so as long as we don’t step in his peonies, we should be okay.”

Ryan hesitated, before raising his hand. “And what am I supposed to do?”

Penny grinned. “Well, Sunshine, you can just wait in the car, look pretty, and then drive us the hell out there once we’re all back in the car.”

 

***

 

Ryan parked in the driveway of the house next to Patrick’s. Sentimental Boy adjusted his tie and smoothed back his hair, holding his little black book that was really empty lazily in one hand. Worrier and Penny got out, opening the front door, which Pew had left set up for them nicely.

He watched through them leave, backpacks retreating through the house to the back, then looked over to Sentimental Boy, who was watching him carefully.

“You’ll be fine, Sunshine. Besides, you get to watch me perform.” He grinned, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek, then getting out and striding towards Patrick’s front door. Ryan touched his cheek lightly, turning to watch and putting an earbud in.

“Hello, sir, how are you today?” Sentimental Boy smiled widely, shaking the hand of the man that Ryan could only assume was Patrick. His house was fucking huge. “My name is Elder Urie. It’s nice to meet you, Mr…? Ah, Stump. May I step in? Oh, thank you!”

Damn. He was a good actor.

Ryan put the other earbud in, keeping his eyes on the house. Pressing play, soothing piano and the voice of Freddie Mercury filled his ears.

“Tonight I’m gonna have myself a real good time…”

What he didn’t hear due to this was yelling, gunshots, and things breaking.

Listening to Queen made his heart rate begin to rise, and a runner’s high sort of feeling start to spread from his head towards the rest of his body.

He shot a glance towards the house, or rather, the mansion, and saw the three of them running out. Worrier looked, befittingly, worried, bloodied nose only emphasising that Penny was clutching at his shoulder, hand covered in blood. Hurriedly, he switched gears, starting to lower his foot onto the grass pedal.

Sentimental Boy crashed in, distracting Ryan for a second. How could he not get distracted, with Sentimental Boy still managing to look attractive with split, bruised lips and a little blood trickling down from a cut on his cheek? His eyes were blown wide, focussed steadily on Ryan.

Worrier kicked the back of Ryan’s seat, Penny’s head in his lap.

“Sunshine, get us out of here!” 

Ryan blinked, slamming his foot down and reversing out onto the street, speeding but not particularly caring.

It wasn’t long before he heard sirens, contrasting the guitar solo that was pounding in his ears. ‘Don’t Stop Me Now’. Eerily accurate.

He took a left, knowing the way to the base through Sentimental Boy’s instructions, not that Penny’s groaning from the background really helped. Worrier had gotten a pair of scissors and had cut away his shirt and jacket, rapidly wrapping the shoulder in bandages like the over-prepared dad he was.

The tires skidded across the tarmac as Ryan lost himself in the song and the driving. He kept his eyes trained firmly on the road through the sunglasses. Sentimental Boy used one hand to grab the handle attached to the roof, putting the other on Ryan’s thigh.

“Come on, Sunshine, you gotta lose them.”

Ryan frowned, turning into an alley, then around the roundabout next to a car the same colour. Sentimental Boy glanced over, spotting a familiar face driving.

“That son of a-”

Ryan drove out, hearing the sirens fade into the distance as he eased off the gas, fitting into a more reasonable speed, and heading back to the base.


	5. Chapter 5

Ryan pulled into the base with a smile plastered firmly on his face. He felt… elated. The adrenaline running through his system made his hands shake as he released them from the tight grip on the steering wheel.

 

Penny, passed out from pain in the backseat, had been carried out by Worrier and taken into a room next to the one that Ryan had been – ahem – interrogated in. Sentimental Boy turned to him, eyes shiny and smile matching the one Ryan had. He took Ryan’s earbuds out slowly, then, placing one hand on his face, leant in to kiss him, other hand tangling in his hair.

 

This was a lot sweeter than the kiss they’d shared previously, and Ryan felt his hands drift up, clasping the back of his neck. After a few moments, they broke for air, and sat, just staring at each other, not moving. 

 

“Well, what the hell happened there?” Worrier put his hands on his hips, suit stained with blood, looking for all the world like a tired, stressed out dad. “Get out of the car, you two. Sentimental Boy, explain to me what the fuck happened.”

 

He shrugged. “I guess we didn’t plan for guests.”

 

“Yeah, the hell we didn’t!” Worrier ran a hand through his hair, streaking some of Penny’s blood on his forehead. “And now we’ve lost another member of our crew, and you’re sitting back there, making out with this guy,” He prodded Ryan, hard, “Who we don’t even know won’t sell us out! I get that you have a soft spot for pretty boys, but fucking hell, dude. It’s like you don’t even care about Penny!”

 

Sentimental Boy folded his arms, spearing the blood on his cheek. “I don’t know why you’re getting mad at me, man. This is Pew’s fault.” He grabbed Ryan by the hand. “And if you didn’t notice, we’ve got a new guy right here!” 

 

Worrier turned, writing stuff on the whiteboard and muttering, clearly annoyed at losing the argument.

 

Ryan traced the cut on Sentimental Boy’s cheek, who winced. “You should put a band-aid on that or it’ll get infected.”

 

Sentimental Boy bit his lip, putting his hand over Ryan’s. “Doesn’t it make me look super badass?”

 

Ryan could only smile and found himself leaning in to kiss him again. 

 

***

 

“So. If you’re gonna be one of us, you’re gonna have to wear a mask.” Sentimental Boy stared up at Ryan’s ceiling. It was cracked, and the paint peeled where it hit the walls. 

 

“Yeah.” Ryan rolled over, tracing his hipbone with one finger. Sentimental Boy was absurdly beautiful. He almost looked as though he was glowing. “You should probably put a band-aid on that. It’s the entire reason you came over anyway.”

 

Sentimental Boy sat up, grabbing a shirt and pulling it on, not particularly caring who it belonged to, and did the same with the rest of his clothing. Ryan watched his disappearing form head into the kitchen and leant back into the mattress. That shirt had definitely been one of his. Wherever Sentimental Boy lived, one of his shirts would always by Ryan’s. The thought sent a pang of warmth through his bones.

 

“Fucking coffee!” Sentimental Boy yelled, causing Ryan to laugh and sit up, wrapping the sheet around his form like some sort of posh snobby detective from a show that wasn’t even really that good. 

 

“It’s really not that bad, Sentimental Boy.” Ryan made a face. "Do you have some sort of nickname I can call you? ‘Sentimental Boy’ is a bit of a mouthful.” Brendon raised an eyebrow, smirking. Shit. Mouthful probably wasn’t the best choice of words. Ryan felt the heat dance along his cheeks. “And for, uh, next time.”

 

Sentimental Boy grinned, running a hand through Ryan’s hair. Ryan, to his embarrassment, leant into his hand, closing his eyes and letting out a small gasp. “It starts with a B. That’s all I’m going to tell you.”

 

“… It’s not Brian, is it? Please tell me it’s not Brian.” Ryan found himself cringing. Ryan and Brian. What an awful combination.

 

B raised an eyebrow. “Have you got something against Brians? Some of the best people are called Brian.”

 

A phone started ringing. Ryan’s hand went to where his pocket should be, before realising that he was still in nothing but a sheet. God, if William came round now he’d die laughing.

 

B fished the phone out of his trouser pocket. “Hello, this is- Dallon? What’s wrong, man?”

 

Ryan watched his mouth harden into a straight line. “All of them? How did they even find out your address?” B swallowed, clenching and unclenching his jaw. “You know what quitting means, right?”

 

He swallowed again, hanging up and putting his phone out of his pocket. He was quiet for a second, and suddenly his fist collided with the drywall.

 

Ryan stared at the hole B had left, feeling strangely numb to the whole scene 

 

“Go get dressed.” B was quiet. Oddly quiet. Until he yelled. “Go fucking get dressed!” He rubbed his bloodied knuckles, turning away. 

 

Ryan did as he said. Something about his tone made him feel as though he didn’t really have a choice.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so you know that 'major character death'?
> 
> here it is

The ride from the base to Dallon’s house was silent. Ryan had picked out a white mask, with a red stripe across the eyes and a black lightning bolt running down from the forehead. 

 

B wore his glittery gold mask, looking entirely too serious for it. He fiddled with his gun, which should have unnerved Ryan, but for some godforsaken reason, didn’t.

 

“If you want to wait in the car, that’s fine.” B didn’t look at him. What wasn’t he looking at him? Couldn’t he see that Ryan needed his full attention? It seemed, right then, that the only way to get the smallest amount of B’s attention was to go with him.

 

“Nah, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” Ryan unbuckled his seatbelt. He had to do this.

 

The door was unlocked. Dallon was hugging his wife’s body, sat on the ground in a pool of blood. He looked up as the two of them walked in, eyes red, face shiny with dried tears, and just looking… tired. 

 

“You took your fucking time.” His voice was hoarse. Ryan remained impassive behind the mask. 

 

Brendon flicked off the safety. “Is there somewhere you wanna do it?”

 

“Here’s fine.” How did they make it sound like they weren’t talking about death? That was something that would surely confuse Ryan forever. 

 

B attached a silencer to the handgun, then pressed it to Dallon’s forehead. Any second now. His finger hovered over the trigger.

 

Dallon’s eyes flickered over to Ryan. “I hope Sunshine’s a fitting replacement for all of us.”

 

It should’ve seemed like it was slow motion. That’s how it was meant to seem, right? One moment, Dallon was sitting up, eyes on B, and then he was laying back, eyes still open, tiny entrance hole on his forehead and blood leaking out the back of his skull in some sort of morbid halo. Blood and bits of brain flecked the wall nearest, and B lowered his arm, shoving the gun back into his pocket roughly.

 

And then his hands were on Ryan’s body, ripping off his mask, and B was kissing him, roughly, like he needed it. And Ryan was only too happy to provide. He untucked Ryan’s shirt, trying to get his hands on as much Ryan’s skin as he could. He pushed Ryan up against the wall, starting to kiss down his neck instead, with a fury that could only be described as pained.

 

***

 

They always wound up in Ryan’s bed, staring at the ceiling. Perhaps it was for the best that Ryan didn’t know where B lived…

 

B left without a word, leaving Ryan feeling… Hollow. He needed more. It was like some sort of an addiction. 

 

He got dressed, slowly. B had left him in a dreamlike state, not knowing if anything was actually real. Dallon was dead. They’d left him lying there, with his wife’s body in his arms.So why didn’t he feel anything? He should feel guilty. It just felt as though there was a hole where his heart should be.

 

The doorbell rang. 

 

Ryan stood, zipping up his jeans. Maybe B had come back for him! He ran a hand through his hair, trying to neaten himself up again. 

 

“Hey, Ryan.” William grinned.

 

It felt like all the air had rushed out of the room. The void that had settled in Ryan’s heart exploded, and everything felt real again. Which meant that Dallon was actually, properly dead, and so was Penny. He sunk to his knees, one hand still on the door, and let the tears fall. William frowned, bending over and putting a hand on his shoulder.

 

“Shit, man, what happened?” His face was the textbook example of concern. A sort of expression that Ryan hadn’t seen from-

 

“It’s that guy.” Was what Ryan intended to say. What he would’ve said if the sobbing hadn’t choked the sentence out of him before it had happened. “Sentimental Boy.”

 

He felt a slow warmth begin to envelop him even through the cold shakes that racked his body. William was… hugging him. It felt so strange after the… How long had it been? Not more than a few days, was it? Shit. He’d really fucked up.

 

“We don’t have to talk about him, let’s just fix you up, okay?” William took his hands, helping him up. “I brought you some good coffee. And some chocolate, if you want it. Fuck, you really fell for him, didn’t you?”

 

How did he not understand? B wasn’t the issue. B was fine. Ryan still, in the bottom of his heart, could feel that love that had begun to blossom for him, somehow, but it was just plain old guilt that had arisen out of watching-

 

He sipped from the mug that had been pushed into his hands. Why was William taking care of him? He felt a blanket around his shoulders. What did he do to get such a good friend?

 

“I watched someone die.”

 

One of his mugs broke on the kitchen tiles. That was fine. With B’s money, he could get whatever mugs he wanted. 

 

“Your grandma? Ryan, I’m so sorry… When was it?” Will wrapped him in a hug again, making sure none of his expensive coffee split.

 

Ryan couldn’t say what had really happened. That would put B at risk. “Earlier today.”

 

“Shit, man. Do you wanna stay at my place for a little bit? It might help, or whatever.” Fuck. William was so goddamn goodnatured.

 

Ryan nodded. If he went to William’s house, B wouldn’t be able to find him. Part if that felt like a good thing. Maybe, if B didn’t want to give Ryan his attention, disappearing would make him want to again. 

 

“Alright. Let me help you pack.” William went into his bedroom, coming back with a backpack and a bunch of shirts and jeans and his mask. “I’m gonna hold stuff up, and you can tell me if you wanna take it or not. Okay?” Despite everything, it brought a smile to Ryan’s face.


	7. Chapter 7

William’s house was fucking huge. 

 

There was no other way of saying it.

 

It was just… Enormous. 

 

William took his backpack up the stairs, and Ryan, mouth gaping, followed. B would love this house. Well, he’d love to rob it.

 

His temporary bedroom was the same size as his apartment. Shit. 

 

“I’ll let you settle in. Pizza for dinner?” William leant on the doorframe, arms folded and brow furrowed.

 

“Yeah.” Ryan took his backpack and dumped it onto the bed, sitting next to it. It looked just like a hotel room. 

 

“Alright. You can talk to me, y’know.” William smiled, then turned, walking down the hall.

 

Ryan’s phone buzzed twice before he acknowledged it. 

 

_B: where are u_

 

A shot of panic ran through him. What did he want now?

 

_B: we’ve got another task from pw_

 

It was like B could read his mind. Ryan assumed that 'pw' was the Pew that Penny had talked about before.

 

_Ryan: at a friends house_

_Ryan: whats the task_

 

As much as he didn’t want to involved in any more crime or death, Ryan found himself wanting to do what B asked. Maybe he’d even be... rewarded.

 

_B: killing some rich fuck_

_B: ive got everything prepared dont worry_

_B: this is gonna be a good one_

 

The way B talked about murder was sick. It sent a chill through Ryan’s spine. There was no way he could be involved in any future murders. Or any crimes. 

 

_Ryan: im not quitting but if i don’t do this one can i see you again_

 

Why was he so needy? He didn’t even know B that well. He didn’t even know this guy's full name!

 

_B: ok_

_B: we still gotta have that coffee date xx_

 

Well. Shit.

 

***

 

Ryan tried not to fidget too much at the dinner table. Someone was going to die. And he was one of three people in America, possibly the world, that knew it.

 

That, and William had gotten so fucking fancy.

 

“So who died and left you all this?” He didn’t want to touch anything. It all seemed so clean, so absent of dust, and so… expensive.

 

“Some great-aunt. Never knew her, before you get too sympathetic.” William didn’t seem to hold any restraint over whether the spotless wooden table got dirty. “You can touch it you know, the staff’ll clean it up tomorrow morning.”

 

Fucking hell. He had to have servants. How rich was he? 

 

Before Ryan could really react, the doorbell went.

 

“Is your butler going to get that?” It was only half a joke. At that point, William could’ve genuinely had a butler.

 

William shot him a confused look. “No, I’m just going to go get it… myself.” He stood, and turned to get the pizza.

 

Ryan’s phone buzzed.

 

_B: and the poison has been delivered_

_B: coffee tomorrow then xx_

 

William returned with a large cardboard box and a plastic bag with something wrapped in paper inside.

 

“Is that garlic bread?” Ryan blinked. Garlic bread was extra.

 

William dropped the box and bag on the table with absolutely no ceremony. “Yeah, complimentary. How nice of them.”

 

Ryan frowned, but brushed it off, opening the box and savouring the greasy scent. At least, even with all of the riches and fancy furniture, they could still enjoy cheap, sticky pizza together.

 

“Go on, then.” William had grabbed a piece with cheese dripping off the end, with a piece of garlic bread in the other hand. Ryan grinned.

 

He tore off a piece of garlic bread, stuffing it into his own mouth. “Mmm. How is this so good?”

 

“Must be a special ingredient.” William grinned, looking less and less refined by the second.

 

Ryan’s phone buzzed.

William ate another bit of garlic bread, then began coughing. “Ugh. Got a bit stuck in my throat.”

 

Ryan, still grinning, but feeling slightly dizzy, took a bit of pizza. “Slow down, then!”

 

William paused, hand still at his mouth and frowning. 

 

“… What is it? Did you find something gross in it?” Ryan frowned, trying to peer over at his hand. 

 

“I-I think-” William coughed again, before showing Ryan his palm.

 

Ryan’s phone buzzed.

 

William’s hand was covered in blood.

 

William’s head hit the table, blood pooling out of his mouth.

 

Ryan, numbly, felt his phone in his hand and dialled a number. He lifted his phone to his ear.

 

“Hello, 911? I need an ambulance…”

 

***

_B: saw ur car out the front_

_B: dont eat the garlic bread xx_


	8. Chapter 8

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

 

Ryan’s eyes fluttered open and he waited for a second for his vision to clear before it landed on a man with dark hair and a suit sitting in the chair next to his bed. 

 

He tried to speak, but his throat felt… hoarse. Sandpaper-y.

 

“Don’t talk. The doctors say you’ll be out in a few days, and they’re postponing my trial soyou can speak as a witness.”

 

Ryan blinked, taking a shaky breath.

 

“That guy,” B swallowed. Ryan noticed a guy standing the door, facing away, not close enough to be in earshot. “He’s asleep next door. He’ll be awake in a few days. Nitroglycerin. It’s a hell of a poison.”

 

The guy knocked on the door, not turning around. B nodded. “I guess that’s time up. Try and wear something nice to my trial, okay?” He leant in, kissing Ryan on the cheek, and then leaving. 

 

Ryan tried to speak again, but some sort of chemical began flowing through his bloodstream, making his brain fog and his eyes shut.

 

***

 

He stood at the door to William’s room, not really being brave enough to go in. God, what had he done? In the trial, he’d say he had no part in it. And then everything would be over, and B would be in jail where he belonged. 

 

Shit.

 

He really had been heels over head, hadn’t he?

 

William looked rather peaceful. Ryan was just glad it wasn’t a funeral.

 

So what? Dallon was dead, Penny was dead, that guy, Jon, was… definitely dead, and B would spend the rest of his sorry life in jail. Maybe William would take pity and let him live at his house.

 

***

 

B was being kept at a local police station to wait out his trial. Ryan had been brought to his cell. B watched, sitting on a flat piece of concrete that stuck out of the wall.

 

“Tell them I didn’t have any part in this.”

 

B looked almost incredulous. “You, Mr Good Citizen, want me to lie?” He stood, walking up to the bars and not even trying to hide his glancing at Ryan’s lips.

 

“Stop calling me that.” Ryan straightened his jacket, glancing away. “Yes, I want you to lie.”

 

“Is that what it’s going to take to prove I love you?” B wrapped his hands around the bars of his cell, then loosened his tie.

 

Ryan couldn’t speak. If B had punched him in the face, it would’ve been so much easier. So much less painful.

 

“I’ll take that as a yes.” B grinned. “Well, if you’re going to force me to lie, you’ve gotta lie for me too.”

 

Ryan clenched his jaw. “Say the word.”

 

“Right now, tell me you love me.” B had a way of trapping Ryan’s eyes. “In the trial, you can go ahead and pretend you have no idea who I am. But right now, you have to tell me that you love me.”

 

Ryan blinked. And then his hands were on B’s collar, kissing him. And B’s hands were in Ryan’s hair.

 

And then it was over. B’s eyes had the same hurt, hollow look that Ryan had felt so many times before. When B left him. Well, he was getting exactly what he deserved. 

 

“I love you.” The words were flat. Ryan was sure he didn’t mean them anymore.

 

He straightened his jacket, coughed once, a cough that would follow him around for the rest of his life, and left. 

 

***

 

“Brendon Boyd Urie, you have been charged with burglary, fraud, motor vehicle theft,and multiple counts of murder. How do you plead?”

 

“Guilty.”

 

Ryan didn’t look once at B during the case.

 

“Mr Urie, do you know this man?” The lawyer had asked Ryan to stand.

 

B took a deep breath, trying to catch Ryan’s eye.

 

“I’ve never seen that man before in my life.”

 

***

 

Ryan fell face first onto his mattress. 

 

He would’ve stayed there until he got hungry, however, it appeared his phone had other plans.

 

It vibrated out of his pocket and onto the mattress. 

 

“Hello, this is Ry-”

 

“Something I forgot to mention, darling.”

 

Ryan’s heart stopped. It should be over. It should’ve been over.

 

“How the hell are you calling me?”His voice remained flat, measured.

 

“There are all sorts of things I can do.” B’s voice echoed down the phone line. “And I want you to come visit me once a week. Say you’re trying to understand my motives. I’ll give you little errands to run for me.”

 

Ryan swallowed. Why couldn’t it be over?

 

“I don’t think it’s that much to ask for. You _are_ the reason I’m here, after all.”

 

There was nothing he could do.

 

Ryan stood up and picked up the mask that had been laying on the floor, a somewhat gruesome memento of what had been. What should’ve been in the past.

 

Well, according to B, it wasn’t time for Sunshine to set after all.


End file.
